stopping in

I'm back in Chongqing and settling into the swing of things. I'm unpacking all the little things I had stuffed into the crevices of my suitcases and rearranging various things around the new apartment. The new spot overlooks a beautiful (green!) courtyard with lots of places for walking and yoga. It is quiet and I get to hear the birds in the morning - something that was rare living in the high-rise we were in before. This district is a little further from the metro system, so we take a bus more frequently to get us there. We can see the Jialing river from our balcony, which meets up with Yangtze downtown. We have a noodle shop around the corner that has to die for dumplings and there's a lake I can't wait to go running around when the air quality gets a little better in the spring. 

Settling back into a routine has been hard when I just want to take naps (curse you jet lag) & take hot baths in my new bathtub. Transitioning back to China after two months in the states has been a little strange, but it also feels very normal. My first time flying over to China was a mess of culture-shock and not knowing anyone but Jeremy. This time around, I'm getting settled into the new apartment that I had picked out before I left, meeting up with friends, and teaching yoga classes at Jeremy's english center. It's strange, but normal. Life has it's ways of reminding you that nothing is permanent and to enjoy the moments you get in any given place. My two months in the states felt like a whirlwind of reality and illusion. I can close my eyes and I am back on my friends street, with giant orange and red trees blowing their leaves in the crisp, fall air. I can recall sinking my toes into the sand at the beach a few weeks before that, the salty smell to the air wrapping me in a blanket of nostalgia. It's the feeling of my entire childhood, living within 30 minutes of the ocean at any given point. I can go back to my bike trips in the early morning around DC - the lights from the capitol building blurring together as I sped down the hill. The rush of the cool wind hitting my face, the burn in my legs as I pedaled back up the hills. 

It is in those moments that I think back with great fondness. Life is made up of those little moments. Moments when I would remember to breath in the air and take a mental picture. They happened so slowly at times, but so fast at others. & now I am back here, in this new place, in this country I've already lived in for over a year. It continues to move, time. It will always carry you on a current. Like a child playing in the surf and looking up to realize he has drifted many feet down the beach. Looking up brings us back to reality. Where are we now? Where were we before? 

I'm getting settled in this new space, both mentally and physically. I've got some stuff in the works that I am excited to share with you all. Stay tuned.